Æfre Blæc
by badjuju
Summary: Family comes first, a saying as true in the magical world as it is in the muggle.
1. Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore

November 1, 1981

Headmaster Office, Hogwarts

Albus knew of the Potters' demise soon after the fact. They, along with the other members of the Order, had taken to wearing life rings. These rings were charmed with a simple Protean to report the continue life of its wearers to a central place, namely the Headmaster's own office. All members of the order had taken to wearing them since the tragic loss of Marlene McKinnon last year. It had taken nearly nine months before they had learned of her death and then only through a masked Death Eater gloating during a confrontation in June. Unfortunately, the rings were too simple to report any other information. Of course, Albus had taken care to place extensive monitoring charms around the cottage in Godric's Hollow once the Potter son's possible role in a prophesy had been revealed and they went into hiding. However, with the Fidelius in place he received few accurate readings. A thought made him pause. He could remember the cottage in Godric's Hollow, although the exact location still seemed vague. Moreover his monitors were once again working. Silver spindles and pendulums which once stock still or only moved randomly were again giving decipherable information. It seemed the Fidelius was breaking down. This was terrible news as the only way for a Fidelius to break was for the secret it guarded to no longer be true. Even the death of the secret keeper would not dispel it, only transfer the secret keeping onto those in on the secret. He himself had not been let in on the secret out of security concerns, but he knew that Bathilda was a nearby contact even if she too didn't know the secret. He would have to get in touch with Sirius, Remus, or Peter as these three close friends of James were the only ones he knew were in the know.

Before contacting any of them, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing on his many instruments. The life rings were definite on the fate of James and Lily, where before the Fidelius muddle the readings to an indeterminate flux, now his readings showed the young couple as dead and certainly their young son with them. Extremely dark magic had been used, most likely the killing curse and multiple times by the strength of the report. It was also clearly Tom Riddle himself on the attack, his magical signature as familiar as Albus' own after years of study. Checking his most valued artifact, Albus studied the readout carefully. This spindle was linked to the life of Tom Riddle, a tricky task without the assistance of the target. The Potters and the Longbottoms had worked together extensively to obtain all the necessary components even engaging Tom himself multiple times. At first, Albus thought the spindle had stopped, causing a momentary burst of joy at the thought although it was quickly followed by a surge of reluctant grief for his once promising student. His emotions turned to disappointment however on further examination. The spindle was turning, but slower than Albus had ever seen or thought possible, but it was still moving proving that Tom was not fully dead.

Checking more of his delicate silver devices, Albus could also see reports of extensive structural damage which provided a further clue to the events. The protections on the cottage were such that this level of damage could only come from within. Obviously the secret had been betrayed leading to the attack. His disappointment in Sirius Black was extreme. He had personally championed the boy where others of the order opposed his inclusion due to his dark family ties. His trust had been misplaced and he mourned the fate of the misguided youth and hoped for his return to the light. As Severus had proved, betrayal need not be permanent. Sirius' betrayal was all the worse as he had not only caused the death of his friends, but also endangered the entire wizarding world. Poor repayment for the faith of the Potters who even entrusted him as godfather for their son. Sirius would indeed see a sharp punishment, but this was not Albus' primary concern. He needed the details of the attack. As Albus turned to leave the office, one last device caught his attention. While he knew for a fact that the Potters were dead, a steady puff of smoke from a rounded container reported the continued life of someone at the cottage.

Hoping for an eyewitness to shed light on the attack, Albus called for Fawkes and flashed to Godric's Hollow. He arrived at the home of Bathilda Bagshot, a long trusted ally in the fight against Voldemort. From her house he could see parts of the destroyed cottage, although he could sense enough remnants of magical protection to keep it hidden from muggles for a short while longer. Bathilda practically leapt out of her door when she spotted him in her garden. She began immediately to rapidly fire questions and plead for help, not pausing at all for his response or even to draw breath it seemed. Motioning for her to join him, they both quickly walked to the half destroyed cottage.

Inside the devastation was even worse than the outside. The body of James lay flung across the base of the stairs, dead by a killing curse. Albus had suspected as much, but it was clear from the largely destroyed rooms that poor James put up quite a fight in defense of his family. A quick search of the ground floor showed no other evidence discernable in the rubble so both Albus and Bathilda followed the trail of destruction upwards. Proceeding carefully up the scorched and marred stairs, they arrived to the first floor. The landing and hall showed much less damage, just a few marks from what seemed hastily cast spells and traps. The trail led along the hall to what a cursory look proved to be the nursery. This room showed that clearly something extraordinary had taken place. The doorway and surround area was a blackened mess, with the door barely clinging to the remains of the frame. However, the cot opposite was completely untouched. Lying straight across from the door half blocking the cot itself, they found the crumpled remains of Lily Potter, like her husband dead from a killing curse. Bathilda gave a gasp and strode into the room, distracting Albus from his intense study of a set of scorched black robes just inside the doorway. Looking up, he saw her lift the young Harry Potter into her arms. To Albus' surprise, the child still lived. The boy was deeply asleep and unmarked except for a gash on his forehead, whether from spell fire or flying debris was unclear.

One thing was clear, the robes by the door were undoubtedly those of Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort as he styled himself now. Carefully casting diagnostic spells throughout the room, Albus was reaching a conclusion about what had happened. Sirius had betrayed the secret of the Potters location. Tom had gone himself to dispatch his prophesied adversary, evidently alone as Albus could not detect a trace of malevolent magic other than Tom's. Blasting his way into the home, Tom had engaged in combat with James while Lily moved to protect Harry. James had fallen and Tom pursued Lily up the stairs, killing her as she reached her son. Somehow though Tom had failed to kill Harry, most probably with another killing curse. It was Tom's preferred method. That the attempt was made was obvious from the traces of malignant magic, but it somehow reversed and blasted Tom himself into oblivion. The lack of a body or a wand was concerning, especially combined with the faint readings on Tom he had in his office. More information was needed, but it seemed that the prophesy had been fulfilled, at least partly.

Albus needed to check his sources for more details and Bathilda readily volunteered to care for the toddler until Albus could confirm his suspicions. Departing Godric's Hollow and arriving at the atrium of the Ministry of Magic took but a moment in Fawkes' flames. Albus knew instantly that something had changed. The Atrium was flooded with people, some scurrying from one point to the next, several others stood in place practically collapsed in on themselves sobbing. Looking around, Albus spotted Alastor Moody just entering the atrium striding towards the exit floos. Easily catching his powerful eye, Alastor turned and headed over to fill him in. It seemed that since early this morning people had been flooding into the ministry and St. Mungo's claiming to be released from the imperius curse. Law enforcement was working double time to interview the mass of people and to follow up on any tips they could give to arrest Death Eaters. The Dark Mark had faded, although still quite visible and it seemed that Tom's followers were collapsing in droves. Sharing information in turn, Albus informed Alastor of the loss of the Potters and the apparent destruction of 'Lord Voldemort', but gleefully told him of the survival of Harry Potter. Later, returned to his office at Hogwarts after an exhausting day at the ministry, Albus would wish he had not spoken so casually in a crowded area.

The tragedy of the Potters' murder left quite a dilemma on Albus' hands. James had been the last of the Potters until Harry was born and while he did have a godfather, this was the man that had betrayed the Potters to their death in the first place. Like all pure bloods, the Potters were related to many families, but his closest relatives were the very hands from which he needed protection. Albus had also heard an increasing number of whispers throughout the rest of his day at the ministry praising the Potters for single handedly ending the war. Harry Potter was the prophesied vanquisher of a Dark Lord that Albus was certain was not quite defeated yet. The infant Harry needed to be protected and prepared. The greatest problem was where the newly orphaned boy would be placed.

His paternal grandmother was a Black, making the Blacks his closest living relatives in the magical world. Albus may just as well kill the boy himself than turn the boy over to them. Walburga Black would be a distinct possible guardian if relation alone was considered, although being the mother of Sirius Black and her advanced age may give him ground to deny her guardianship, but the Malfoys had the political capital to counter him, if not obtain the boy themselves. He shuddered to think of Harry in the hands of the Malfoys or worse the Lestranges. Normally the family of godparents could petition for custody, but that brought them back to the Blacks through Sirius. His godmother, Marlene McKinnon, had been a distant relative as well, but she and her entire family had been wiped out the previous year. Griselda Marchbanks was his great-great aunt but he could not protest Walburga's age and suggest Madame Marchbanks in her place, even Albus considered her ancient. There was not a place in the magical world that Harry could go without eventually falling into the hands of supporters of 'Lord Voldemort'.

Fortunately, Albus recalled Lily had a sister, Petunia. If Albus remembered correctly in her youth she was enamored of the magical world. While she was quite bitter when she could not join it herself, Albus assured himself that the presence of her magical nephew would be welcomed. Even if it inflamed her bitterness, Harry would be safer there than with a dark magical family. The complication would be that Harry would need to be cut off from the magical world, lest he be wrested from his mother's family by the same political manipulations that prevented Albus from placing the boy with a more suitable magical family. Harry would naturally rejoin the world when he attended Hogwarts at eleven, but it was a question of if he could he integrate well by then. Albus well knew that muggleborns struggled to acclimate to the magical world, often returning to their muggle roots after leaving Hogwarts. He needed Harry to instantly be embraced by the magical world and have no desire to leave and even for the boy of prophesy to be willing to fight to the death in its behalf. It was quite the problem.

Then Albus struck upon an ingenious plan, if he thought so himself. Harry would live in obscurity in the muggle world, while in the magical world Albus himself would carefully fan the flames of his reputation. Maybe he should not regret his loose tongue in the Atrium after all. It wouldn't be that difficult to move the growing admiration for the Potters he heard echoing throughout the ministry earlier into a veneration focused on the surviving son. No boy would turn his back on those that welcomed him as a conquering hero. Albus well remembered his own reception on his return from defeating Grindenwald. The heady acclaim of being catapulted from a talented but little known school teacher to the hero of the wizarding world still could make his heart beat fast. For a sheltered school boy like the future Harry Potter, it would be all the more overwhelming. With careful guidance from himself, Harry would become the hero of the light and fulfill his prophesied role.

His course determined Albus thought on how best to accomplish it. His role in the Wizengamot would keep him very busy the next few days during the inquisition and trials of the recently arrested death eaters. Bathilda could not keep the boy long, so he would need to send someone in his stead. Minerva was out as she needed to run the school in his absence. Severus would likewise be needed to attend to his classes and as much as he trusted Severus, he felt he should keep Harry's location from him just in case he had a run in with any remaining Death Eaters. Severus would likewise be dealing with the fallout of his own role in the war. Others he trusted to carry out the task would be involved in the hunt for remaining Death Eaters or attending the trials. The only one trustworthy remaining would be Hagrid. Albus smiled, this task would be perfect for his large friend. Hagrid could easily go tomorrow or the day after, and Albus would send a letter along to explain the situation. He would speak to the man tomorrow about arrangements. Maybe if Hagrid could deliver Harry late enough he could slip away from his duties as Chief Warlock early and meet him at the home of Lily's sister. Once Harry was with his aunt, Albus knew it would all work out. Like many of his plans, Albus was sure it would come together perfectly.

Pride, as they say, comes before the fall and Albus Dumbledore never saw the cliff, even when he ran right over the edge.


	2. Arcturus Black

Arcturus Black

November 10, 1981

Black Estate, Wiltshire

Arcturus Black considered this the worst week in the history of the Black Family and considering the dubious reputation of the house he headed that was saying quite a lot. While the death of the Potter family was tragic, they were quite distant on the tree. Learning that it was his grandson that was their betrayer had been much more of a blow, especially with Sirius Black now incarcerated indefinitely in Azkaban.

His son, Orion, had always been a disappointment to Arcturus, clinging to pureblood principles and blinded in his devotion to some upstart. His son lacked all the grace and cunning of a true Slytherin and completely failed to see the larger place he held in the world. When Orion was younger, he could not fault him for his pride in the Black name and position, a pride that Arcturus himself shared, but this pride had become twisted as he grew. Arcturus would like to place the blame on that devil woman Walburga. Cousin or not, she and her brother were nearly fanatical in their views and the older girl had completely enthralled his boy during their time together at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, he knew that he must have failed his son as a father somehow for the boy to be so vulnerable to her manipulations. Arcturus should have protested more when his son approached him for his consent to marry his cousin, but Orion seemed so in love and Walburga did not seem nearly as insane then as she was now. He had seen his grandson, Sirius, as his redemption. Sirius had categorically rejected his parents' twisted opinions and stood as his own man. Arcturus could have hoped for him to do so in the halls of Slytherin, but he could accept the break that Gryffindor house afforded him. Even when Sirius ran away from home and Orion and Walburga were both vehement in their desire to see him disowned, Arcturus did not oblige. He used his position as head of the Black family to secure Sirius in the home of the Potters and even ensured that he received the bequest of his maternal uncle. He saw Sirius as the perfect foil against the fanaticism so much of the family had fallen into. This was how a Black played the game, both sides against the other, with a Black always coming out on top, a principle that his family and seemingly all of Slytherin House had forgotten in these long years of war.

However, Sirius turned out to be an even greater disappointment than his father. Arcturus could easily accept him fighting against Voldemort, he viewed that wizard with equal suspicion. Although he saw the trust Sirius placed in Dumbledore as nearly as bad as the slavish devotion afforded the so-called Dark Lord, he did not begrudge Sirius for joining with Dumbledore. At least he didn't remembered Dumbledore as a swotty friend of his son's from Hogwarts. The ingratiating manners of that urchin irked him then and he did not see improvements under his new ridiculous name of "Voldemort". How the same people that derided him as an upstart muggle orphan as children would willingly bow down to him as adults, all the while professing the superiority of their pureblood cause, confounded him. The masses not knowing his identity he could understand as care had been taken over the twenty years since his return to Britain to hide his very humble origins, but the ancient houses were nothing without their history and the 1940s when the orphan Tom Riddle had been at school, unhidden and sponging of the generosity of his better connected housemates were not that long ago. Surely, the Black home was not the only one that hosted their children's friends during their school days. Maybe their hypocrisy was more palatable than remembering how they underestimated the young Riddle lad. Sirius secretly being in league with him turned Arcturus' stomach, particularly since his plot had led directly to the death of the boy that had taken him in as a brother. A Black did not turn his back on family; after all **Æfre Blæc.** He should fault Walburga's French bastardization of the family motto as part of his grandson's failure in upbringing. 'Toujours pur' while technically a correct translation of **Æfre Blæc** , Always pure, lacked the true subtlety the original Saxon motto extolled and completely removed the clever play on the family name. Æfre meaning always or forever, and Blæc for Black, or meaning both dark and bright, black and white. The Black family was summed in more than a trite French phrase but were both sides at once and always for the family. Subtlety was truly becoming lost within his own family. Arcturus' ancient prejudice felt satisfied in blaming at least in part some Norman infestation for the corruption of his grandson. The boy's cursed mother supported her brother marrying a _Rosier_ after all, and _his_ children married a _Malfoy_ and a _Lestrange_. Norman peasants all of them and only in this country since the time of William I. It was disgraceful, but Arcturus never did hold the reins of the family tightly and let his cousin Pollux control his own branch, only interfering when it impacted his own.

Lestrange, there was another failing that could fall at the feet of the family Black. Less than a week after her cousin's disgrace, Bellatrix went and compounded the ruin. Attacking after her lord had already been defeated and for no reasonable purpose. Her fanatic devotion leading to her own downfall. Where was this once proud family to go from here? Arcturus had just hit eighty, but Blacks were never terribly long lived. His son was dead and his grandsons as good as. Cousin Pollux was still around, but he would never entrust the family to one of his descendants, especially with how weak his stock had proven themselves. Besides there were only girls left in his line and they had all married away foolishly. While they all remained family, he would not trust one of their spawn to lead the family in any sort of dignity. His daughter, Lucretia, was still here, but she had no children of her own, and even if she did, they more rightly would serve under the proud house of Prewett. That was the problem, the Black family had no shortage of relatives, but they were all married into other prominent families. These families would have their own traditions, and would naturally be the first loyalty of any members. What worthy family would give up one of its own for a distant relative? He knew that some would easily trade a son for the promise of the Black wealth and prestige, but he would certainly not elevate one of such breeding that valued money over family loyalty. **Æfre Blæc** , after all.

The very motto that strengthened the family seemed doomed to end it. He was inclined to just give it up as lost, withdrawing from the world until he died. Let the Black fortune that he had spent his life building die in Gringotts, with the only slightest chance that Sirius Black would outlive him in his harsh Azkaban internment. With no heir named and no direct descendent left, the Goblins would not willingly turn over the Black vaults or at least not without a substantial fee. Let the last of the disgraced family destroy itself fighting over the dredges.

In most circumstances, Arcturus would have left it there. Let it rot in place. But at the very moment that he was deciding to let the Black name and fortune die with him, one of the house elves delivered his afternoon tea and paper. Arcturus hesitated to unroll his Daily Prophet. It had brought nothing but terrible news each day this week, the death of the Potters, the betrayal of Sirius, and the insanity of Bellatrix. Finally unrolling the paper, he saw one more indignity to the name of Black. There emblazoned across the front page of the paper was a picture of Lucius Malfoy shaking hands with the minister and a headline proclaiming his freedom due to being under the Imperius curse. The photo moved through the motions and Arcturus watched as Lucius gave a smug smirk again and again. His transparent manipulations to save his own skin fairly stamped his own guilt across his face, or his forearm as it were. The accompanying article did little to alleviate this impression as it commended Lucius for his continuing support of the current ministry and lamented his being imprisoned under a dreadful curse so long. Arcturus wondered how many Galleons constituted 'continuing support'. The Article further went on to hope for a bright future for Malfoy and even his son continuing the tradition and fully show the luster of the Malfoy and Black name. This was the final indignity. How dare Narcissa's worthless husband use the Black name and likely promises of the Black fortune to help wriggle himself from his well-deserved noose? He would rather leave his fortune in the hands of a house elf than see it muddied by such a man. Arcturus did not mind a well thought out plot or a cunning scheme and there was certainly enough items of dubious origin in the Black family, but under the care of one such as Lucius Malfoy the work of generations of Blacks would be drained in a few decades recklessly spent to feed the ego and ambitions of such a waste of a man. What had Pollux been thinking when he consented to such a match for his youngest granddaughter? Lucius showed no ability for himself, no cunning, just a cringing transitioned from kissing the robe of a pretender one day to happily serving as a politician's money bag the next. He was little more than a common brute.

There was an unfortunate truth however. Lucius' son did have a solid, if distant, claim on the Black inheritance. Draco, and wasn't that a pretentious name for a _Malfoy_ to bear, was a first cousin, although 3 times removed. If his cousin Pollux outlived Arcturus, as seemed likely as he was more than a decade younger, his claim would be even stronger as Pollux could claim himself as the Black heir being a first cousin and name his only great-grandson as his heir. The goblins may protest as not being named by Arcturus as an heir or in the direct line, but with ministry support that Lucius had conveniently tied to his pocket book, Pollux would eventually prevail. Pollux was the direct ancestor of Sirius, Bellatrix and Narcissa and each had contributed to the failing of the family with their own daily spotlight. Arcturus was more determined than ever to prevent anyone from that branch for gaining his legacy.

To that end, Arcturus left his tea untouched and retired to his study and to the family book it contained. This book, or tome rather, laid out an extensive family tree, with not only family connections delineated, but short biographies and information for each name mentioned. The direct Black line extended back to the time of Merlin himself, with each branch carefully updated by the senior house elf of the family as needed. Arcturus required an heir with a claim at least as solid as the Malfoy spawn and hopefully one he himself could help mold in the last remaining years of his life. The Black family had long been a patriarchal one so he would need a male of Black descent for a strong claim. Of his own first cousins the Burkes did not have the necessary political capital to win in a fight against Malfoy. Trailing through the various lines from his cousins, the Crouch family stood out as brilliant and connected, but the last Crouch was imprisoned as a death eater in the same disgrace as Bellatrix. The Longbottom heir was a possibility, the elder had been incapacitated in the attack that disgraced Bellatrix and the Crouch boy. The younger was a first cousin thrice removed like the Malfoy brat, but he was now fully in the care of his grandmother Augusta and a greater harridan Arcturus had never met. One of the numerous Weasleys may be a possibility, but the enmity between the Weasley and Malfoy families would likely complicate any future inheritance claims. Leafing through the pages, Arcturus hit on the perfect solution. He had nearly forgotten his little cousin Dorea. She was born after he was already grown and out of the house so he had never interacted with her much. She had only one son, who had likewise had only one son, but it was the identity of that son that Arcturus knew would guarantee the success of his venture.

Dorea Black's only surviving grandchild was none other than Harry Potter, the same infant being universally hailed as a hero and responsible for ending the war with 'Voldemort'. That would make the Potter boy a first cousin only twice removed, a claim at least equal to the Malfoy spawn. Only Pollux as the only other living male Black had a stronger bloodline claim. Looking through the paperwork, Arcturus nearly cackled in glee. Harry Potter was also the godson and named heir of that wretch of a grandson, Sirius. This only strengthened the claim for the Potter child as he could be claimed under a direct line as the sole claimed heir of the heir apparent, practically equal in terms as a great-grandchild by birth. In fact, the murder of the Potters only strengthened the boy's claim for as an orphan he was under the protection of his godfather and thereby his godfather's family, regardless if it was that godfather that led to the murders. If Pollux happened to die before Sirius or Arcturus himself, the Potter boy would be the undisputed heir. Even if Pollux outlived them both, he would certainly have a strong argument for his own claim. Arcturus could also count on his daughter, Lucretia, to support the boy according to his wishes. Toss in his rapidly growing reputation as the Boy Who Lived and the Potter's own considerable influence and wealth and it was guaranteed to go his way. Arcturus traced the young boy's history through the book. His father's side was mostly deceased with the exception of one great-great aunt Marchbanks. Arcturus recalled her from his own OWL and NEWT exams and could only wonder at the age of the venerable Madame Marchbanks. Details on his mother's side were sparse as expected of one with no prior connection to the magical world, her genealogy only included her parents' names and that of a sister, although her own biography was more extensive and glowing in accomplishments for such a short life. This left an open question as to where the boy was now.

Pulling out a self-addressing envelope, as commonly used for owl post, Arcturus carefully addressed it to Harry Potter. The envelope however did not automatically fill in the boy's place of residence. Well, he could at least be grateful that some basic protections were in place. Likely an unplottable spell, with the location divulged only with the given key or an approved owl for delivery. Calling for Mippy, the most senior elf on the estate, he ordered her to bring any recent paper that referred to the Potter boy. Rapidly scanning the papers, Arcturus reread the multitude of articles that included mention of the new boy hero. The Sunday edition of the Prophet had extensive coverage of the Death Eater trials and the Potter and Longbottom tragedies. Reviewing the various articles in quick succession, Arcturus was able to pick out a pattern. It seemed that Dumbledore wanted the Potter boy to be held as a hero and was working to create a legend. Even the title, The-Boy-Who-Lived, reeked of Dumbledore's influence in all its unsubtle and ham-fisted glory. Finally, he found what he was looking for. An article towards the middle of the paper included a quote from Albus Dumbledore that Harry Potter had been placed with his closest living relatives. Arcturus knew that to be his own family on his paternal side, so that left his mother's family. As strange as it would be to place a magical child away from the magical world that was just the sort of oddness Arcturus had come to expect from Dumbledore. This would never do. Leaving a child of such importance to live completely removed from the magical world was just asking for trouble. The boy would likely grow completely dependent on the Dumbledore coot for everything. A disaster for the young boy and moreover a great hindrance to Arcturus' own plans. He would remedy the situation forthwith. Harry Potter was a Black and Blacks belonged with family, proper family. **Æfre Blæc** , after all.

Reviewing the entry for Lily Potter in the Black tome, he acquired her maiden name and that she had an older sister, Petunia. He would need to set a house elf to further complete the Evans line as Harry would naturally want it in the future. Addressing a new envelope with the name Petunia Evans saw the address 4 Privet Drive appear, along with the addition of Petunia's married name of Dursley. Arcturus smirked to himself. Dumbledore thought he was so clever, but he often failed to consider simple alternatives to his own methods. Once again, calling for his elf, Arcturus ordered a room prepared for the new addition and asked that his daughter be asked to join him. Lucretia had moved into the dowager house of the estate on the death of her husband and he would need to advise her of his plans and ask her to witness his new will. He would send an elf to retrieve the boy this evening. Whatever Dumbledore had on the muggle woman would not be enough to deter his loyal elves. Likely, Dumbledore would be too distracted by his own political manipulation in the wake of the ending war to be paying close attention to the young Potter. He chuckled to himself over how long it would take for Dumbledore to discover the move and what the barmy old coot would try to return the Potter boy to his own influence. Let him try. Arcturus was no wet behind the ears Hogwarts graduate to be cowed by Dumbledore's vaunted reputation. Dumbledore seemed to be setting up the boy as a hero of light under his own guidance even at this stage. Well, Arcturus would raise him to be a hero worthy of the name.


	3. Petunia Dursley

Petunia Dursley

11 November 1981

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Petunia Dursley stumbled downstairs still half asleep. Normally she was bright and chipper in the mornings and eagerly prepared a hearty breakfast to send Vernon off to work. This last week however had left her exhausted, even more than when her sweet Dudley was breaking his first tooth. Last Wednesday she had received the shock of her life when going to retrieve the milk in the morning she had found her young nephew, Harry Potter, abandoned on her doorstep. The accompanying letter had only compounded her state when she learned that not only had her sister been murdered, but that the same man was after her nephew and now her own family was likely in danger. The familiar signature did little to alleviate her concern. Albus Dumbledore had never done her any favors and all out stating that he would only protect her family from magical murderers if she took in her nephew did not generate the kindest of feelings.

Petunia had many hard feelings towards the magical world. As a child, being excluded and steadily left behind by her sister had hurt deeply, especially as her parents continually fawned over Lily in the brief times she was home. Petunia herself had done her best to be the perfect daughter, doing well in school and dutifully doing chores at home every day, but praise had been scarce for what her parents saw as a matter of course. Lily obviously never did chores or any of the house work, she was only home for holidays and then was the center of all parental attention. It was hard not to resent her sister when every time she was home it was to praise of how well she was doing or how beautiful she had grown, and never mind that Petunia had worked just as hard (if not harder with no magical help), what did Lily want to do for the holiday. With age she had come to understand that they were just glad to see their daughter and tended to spoil her a bit since she was away so much, but as a child it had been painful to live through.

The exclusivity of the magical world also irked her; never mind attending Hogwarts, she wasn't even permitted to visit and even righting a letter to the Headmaster was too much. That poisonous neighborhood boy, Snape, did not help her opinion as by his attitude she and any other non-magicals were little more than animals. She was so happy when her sister told her she had finally dropped the repulsive little toad. She had hoped that she and her sister could reconnect as adults, especially as she need not be gone 10 months out of the year at school, but that wish had been in vain too. After graduation she was gone more than ever, and once their parents were gone Lily did not see the need to keep in touch. Her sister had seemed to adopt many magical prejudices over her school days. Not even noticing when she despaired over the 'muggle' conditions at home and dismissing her family's views and opinions as trivial or uninformed. Lily's husband had been the worst at that. The arrogant condescension of the prick James Potter towards her own wonderful Vernon still made her burn with anger years later. The spoiled boy had clearly never had to work for anything in his life, casually bragging of his own inherited wealth and dismissing Vernon's own hard earned gains. Of course what had magic or that Potter boy brought her sister except an early grave, leaving her to pick up the pieces and care for their abandoned child.

Harry, it turned out, was an exceptionally difficult child. Since he had woken up that first morning, the boy had not stopped screaming and sobbing. That first day, the plaintive cries for his mother had stirred Petunia's own tears and she too wept for her dead sister. She could understand the little boy's pain. While they no longer spoke, and indeed had strongly resented each other the last few years, Petunia could still grieve for her and all the missed opportunities that magic had stolen from their lives. The second day did not see any lessening of Harry's cries, indeed they seemed to increase. Petunia would have taken him to the doctor if Dumbledore's letter had not assured her of Harry's perfect health and the need to keep him out of sight until the risk died down. She understood Harry's sobs for his parents, but it did not make it any easier to endure the noise. Inevitably, Harry's cries set off her own sweet tempered Dudley and Petunia would face the rest of the day with her ears practically bleeding from the screams of two toddlers. Vernon's tolerance was lower than her own and although he had an escape for several hours each day, returning from a hard day's work every evening to a house filled with constant screams was rapidly evaporating any pity or goodwill he felt towards their nephew.

After several days of the constant wailing, Petunia was at her wit's end. No one in the house was sleeping, constantly awakened by the noise. Vernon's temper was fraying noticeably and Dudley was beginning to look ill from exhaustion. In desperation, Petunia finally moved Harry in Dudley's old cot into the cupboard under the stairs. It was still convenient for her to check on the boy throughout the day and the thick door kept in much of the sound. The added distance to Dudley's room upstairs muffled the noise enough that her own boy was finally sleeping through the evenings and naptimes improving Dudley's look and disposition. Vernon again got some rest, but Petunia was always a light sleeper and even when she dropped off the crying would quickly wake her again. After a week of this, she had started to truly resent the brat and her enmity towards his mother was freshly stirred with every scream. While she knew she could never abandon the boy, everyday it was becoming harder to truly care for the child as his continual crying steadily eroded her natural motherly concern. Despairingly, Petunia thought that if this continued much longer not only would she be worn to the bone, but she would eventually come to hate her sister's child.

Thinking of Harry, the kitchen was unusually quiet this morning. Her morning cup of tea finally roused Petunia's senses enough to notice that Harry was not screaming for once. Walking quickly to the cupboard under the stairs, she found the cot empty. Panic briefly flared before she spotted a note written on the thick paper she recalled Lily using for her school work. It seemed that the magicals were as careless of 'muggles' when picking up the boy as when dropping him off. Well, it was best for him to be raised there as his magical nature would only bring pain and destruction to her family, like Lily had done to her. She wondered if she would ever see her nephew again, the last remnant of her own family, and sadly realized she felt only relief at him being gone.


End file.
